It has occurred to me since that perhaps they expected me to go too, but I never thought of it at the time.

I had been asked for a week, and to go before the end of it never so much as entered my head.
There was no chance of going out.

The early winter afternoon was already closing in, and a few flakes of snow were drifting like feathers in the heavy air, promising more to come.

Every one seemed to have dispersed, Ralph up-stairs to his father, Charles out-of-doors somewhere in spite of the weather.

I remembered that I had not written to Jane since I left London, and went into the library to do so.